


(Not) A Flying Toy

by hermione_vader



Series: Plastic Armor [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Toy Story Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst and Humor, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 16:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermione_vader/pseuds/hermione_vader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avengers/Toy Story fusion AU.  Tony Stark has it all figured out.  Now he's just waiting to get out of this strange new rehab.  So why is his suit malfuctioning?  And why won't that creep with the horned helmet just leave him alone?  Part 2 of the Plastic Armor series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not) A Flying Toy

The rehab facility's head honcho, Phil, was out for the day with his board president and his slobbery secretary, so Tony decided to explore all the other rooms that he'd only glimpsed before.  
  
He slid down the giant banister and wandered into an enormous kitchen.  Why in hell was everything so _huge_?  He had no idea, but he maximized all of the suit's power to open the refridgerator door.  The suit almost hummed as he pulled the handle.  
  
The door didn't budge.  
  
Tony tried a few more times, but the fridge stayed shut.  So he jumped down and moved on---he wasn't hungry anyway.  He finally settled down on the big, red couch and grabbed the remote control.  He pressed all of the buttons just for fun until he hit the "Power" button.  The TV screen zapped on and the current channel played a commercial.  A commercial with his face on it.  Tony grinned---Stark Industries latest spot, probably.  Except that it wasn't.  
  
"Save the Earth from the threats of the universe with your very own Invincible Iron Man!" the announcer boomed while two boys about Phil's age played with an Iron Man...doll.  That looked exactly like Tony.  
  
The commercial went on and he saw the Iron Man and a War Machine doll (wait 'til Rhodey heard about that!) took on an Iron Monger action figure.  He told himself that Stane was absolutely dead as he watched the dolls duke it out.  Tony was about to switch the TV off when he heard the announcer speak again.  
  
"Not a flying toy," the voice said.  "Each set sold separately.  Batteries not included."  
  
Tony pressed "Power" again and the TV snapped off.  Batteries not included?  The suit didn't even _run_ on batteries.  Obviously, this was some sort of smear campaign.  Hammer was probably behind it.  He'd just have to tell Pepper...  
  
Where _was_ Pepper?  She hadn't come to visit him once since he'd been there.  And she hadn't returned his calls.  ...Had he missed her two weeks notice?  
  
Oh, well, he didn't need Pepper for this anyway.  Not a flying toy?  Yes.  It was a flying _suit_.  Some people just didn't know the difference.  Tony did.  So he climbed back up the stairs, step by step, until he reached the top and shimmied up one of the poles to the top of the banister.  Then he spread his arms out, leapt into the air, and soared, inching towards the open window...  
  
...Until the world fell out from under him.  The air curled up and flipped the Invincible Iron Man back and forth until he plummeted onto the stairs and tumbled down to the bottom.

Tony lay there, staring up at the window where he should have been.  Someone must have tampered with the suit.  Except they couldn't have, since he hadn't removed it since he entered this facility.  But that was the only option.  Unless he really was a...no.  No, he wasn't.  He knew exactly who he was: Anthony Edward Stark, Howard and Maria's only child, CEO of Stark Industries, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.  He _knew_ that, but he couldn't remember it.  He should have been able to remember all of that happening.  Where were the memories?  Something was missing.  
  
No, really, something was missing.  Tony straightened out his three limbs---he was pretty sure he'd had four of them before he fell.  
  
He sat up.  "Right arm!  Where---"  
  
"Looking for this, Mr. Stark?"   
  
Tony could see his right arm waving around a few feet in front of him.  He stood up and bolted forward, only for the arm the fling over his head in the other direction.  The finder stepped forward, his black and green armor glinting in the sunlight.  The Trickster God.   
  
"Of course it was you," Tony said.  "You think your magic can _Matrix_ me out of commission with all that back there?  You got another thing comin', pal."  
  
Loki took a step back, looking offended.  "Excuse me?  If I really did have magic powers, I certainly wouldn't waste them on you.  I was merely watching."  
  
"That's what you do, isn't it?  You watch and wait until you can overthrow the Captain and put all those suckers under your thumb."  Tony gestured with his one remaining arm.  "Because in your twisted little head, we're all just made to be ruled."  
  
Loki charged him, knocking Tony flat on his back again.  Loki's face hovered just inches from his own.  "You disgust me, Stark.  You have everything a toy could possibly want, and yet you wish to throw it away for some ridiculous fantasy."  
  
Tony smirked.  "Well, I'd love to stay in your hospitable loony bin forever, but there are bigger things in this world that need my attention."  
  
Loki squeezed Tony's shoulders.  "Bigger than a child's love?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Phil adores you.  Next to Steve, you're his very favorite.  You're the only one Steve has ever been jealous of.  In all respects, you are one of a very happy few."  
  
"And that just makes you _sick_."  Tony grinned ruefully.  He should have paid more attention to Loki's clenched fist.  
  
The punch _whacked_ him in the jaw, slapping his head against the ground.  "You imbecile!  You really think I'm some mustache-twirling sorcerer, hell-bent on some quest for domination?  I don't need to rule anyone!  I ONLY WANT TO BE YOUR EQUAL!"  
  
"My equal?"  
  
"I want nothing more than to fight alongside my friends instead of against them!  And do you really think that Hamm's greatest ambition is to be a Bond villain rip-off forever?  Or that Peggy and Natasha enjoy being nothing but damsels in distress?  We'd give all our limbs to get as much attention as Phil lavishes on you!"  
  
"Then why not just quit?"  
  
Loki let go and Tony was pretty sure he'd never seen anyone look so offended.  "I...I don't whether I pity or envy you.  The rest of us remember sitting on the shelf, wondering if we'd ever find an owner.  Phil's taken us on playdates and we've seen how other children mistreat their toys.  You have no idea how lucky you are.  _No_ idea."  
  
Tony slowly pulled himself back up.  This really couldn't be happening.  "You actually believe everything you just said?  You are one sad, strange little man.  You can keep your delusions, Cuckoo's Nest, but I know who I am."  He glanced around.  Loki was gone.  
  
Or so he thought, until his own right arm knocked him down again, face first this time.  "If you really are a man, why isn't your arm socket bleeding?"  
  
Tony hadn't thought of that.  The blood should have gushed.  They both should have been covered in it.  "I-I-I-"  
  
Loki slammed the arm down four more times.  "YOU.  ARE.  A.  TOY!!!  A piece of plastic molded and assembled in Hong Kong, created for children's enjoyment!  You might as well accept your fate because you actually have a child who adores you.  Only an imbecile would throw that kind of opportunity away.  But then look who I'm talking to."  Loki dropped the arm and walked away, up to the bedroom.

Tony stood up again and stared at the window.  What if the Mischief God was right?  What if there was nowhere else to go?  That couldn't be right, though.  He'd have to ask Pepper when she visited.  But...what did Pepper even look like?  He thought she might have red hair, but maybe that was because that Secret Agent Barbie kept catching his eye.  He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Pepper, but he couldn't see a face.  He couldn't imagine her voice.  He only had a name floating around in his head.  
  
Tony picked his arm up and trudged up the stairs.  A piece of plastic.  Made in China.  Maybe that was all he was.  Maybe.  
  
He was about to shove the door open with his one good arm when it swung back.  The soldier in the bowler hat jumped down.  The guy probably had a name, but Tony hadn't bothered to learn it.  
  
"Hey, Captain!" the soldier shouted back in to the bedroom.  "A certain somebody went AWOL.  And he's kinda worse for wear."  
  
"Thanks, Dugan!" Tony heard Captain America shout.  "I'll take a look."  
  
Tony stepped into the room, clutching his right arm, and soon enough, Captain America, the Barbies, the archer, the Viking-guy and the pig (who seriously plays with piggy bank?) gathered in front of him.  
  
"Whoa!  Looks like somebody's in middle of an existential crisis," the pig remarked.  "Ya think we can get our hands on some Sartre or Albert Camus?"  
  
"Thanks for your concern, piggy bank, but I'm fine," Tony insisted.  He really didn't need any of these guys playing therapist.  
  
"No, you most certainly are not!" the Viking-warrior-guy shouted in Tony's face.  "My brother informed me of your nasty fall!"  
  
"He probably exaggerated, then.  It really wasn't anything---"  
  
"You tried to fly!  Are you _that_ crazy?"  the archer asked.  "We don't expect you to be a _real_ superhero, you know."  
  
"I...it worked before," Tony reminded them.  He _had_ flown the first day he got here.  
  
"Dude, you glided and bounced around on bunch of stuff!  That was cool enough on it's own."  
  
"Clint, that doesn't matter now.  We're just glad you're alright," Captain America said, looking Tony straight in the eye.  He took Tony's arm and snapped it back in place, with the Viking's help.  
  
Tony swung his reattached arm around.  "Wow.  Thanks, guys.  But why are you helping me?  Most of you don't even like me."  
  
"We've all fallen apart at one point or another," the Captain explained.  "And we put each back together if Phil's not around to do it."  
  
"Steve's reattached my head three times since Phil unwrapped me," the red-headed Barbie said.  
  
"Six for me," the brunette added.  
  
The Captain gripped Tony's shoulder.  "Doesn't matter how much we like you.  Phil loves you and that's what matters.  He'd be heartbroken if you went missing."  
  
Tony glanced up and saw Loki perched on the desk, nodding solemnly.  
  
"I guess...I guess I can get used to this place."  Tony managed a small grin.  
  
"Good to hear it,"  The Captain patted him on the back.  
  
"Alright, so what were your names again?  I don't think I was listening the first time."  
  
Maybe he wasn't a CEO.  Maybe he wasn't a superhero.  Maybe he didn't have a secretary named Pepper.  But right then, Tony Stark, the Invincible Iron Man, felt very, very lucky.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(Not) A Flying Toy [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852742) by [blackglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/pseuds/blackglass)




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